


If you love something, set it free…

by darkmoore



Series: Betrayed trust [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Incest, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmoore/pseuds/darkmoore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam re-joins Dean for hunting and pays a high price for it</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you love something, set it free…

**Author's Note:**

> Third part of the "Betrayed trust" verse. Longer than the previous ones and just as dark and angsty. Sorry, no happy end yet. But you get smut, so I hope you'll forgive me.

Sam watched Victoria over the restaurant table. He didn't need his empathy to know she was pleased. Very pleased indeed, if the way she was looking at her new engagement-ring was anything to go by. The last few months had been anything but easy, but Sam had learned to accept that this was his life now. A life that consisted of studying and making a life for him and Victoria. A life without Dean in it.

She'd taken him back, that night 8 months ago, when he had returned back at his apartment, bruised, broken and hurting from a loss he thought he'd never recover from. Seeing his obvious misery, she had agreed to stay with him. She had said she would be willing to 'forgive and forget', if he promised to never run off like this again. Sam had been too hurt to object, Dean's rejection still too fresh in his mind. So he took comfort wherever he could find it, which happened to be a warm body at night.

Victoria didn't _really_ love him, Sam knew that for sure. Not in the way Dean had loved him anyway. Most of the time, Sam sensed a lot of different emotions from her. Ambition, jealousy, possessiveness, and yes, in a way, love. Sam didn't know if she really loved him, though, or the thought of being with him. He knew she wanted to marry him, have the statistically two point whatever children, a dog and a white picket fence. The perfect picture-book life. And once upon a time Sam had thought he wanted that, too.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Yes, he'd wanted normal, but this…this wasn't normal. Not _his_ normal anyway. Sam's normal consisted of greasy diner food, shabby motel rooms and hunting evil. It consisted of fighting over who got to pick the music, of gluing Dean's hand to a beer bottle and of listening to his brother's deep breathing in the bed beside his own. It consisted of _Dean_.

And Sam was eternally sorry that he had realized this fact just a little too late. Because a life with Dean was the one single thing, he couldn't have any more.

oooooOooooo

"Damn it, Bobby be careful! That hurts!" Dean hissed out when Bobby fixed the bandage on Dean's freshly stitched arm none too gently.

"Should have thought about that before you let that fucker get too close to you, Dean," Bobby replied, patting the wound twice for good measure and ignoring Dean's wince.

Dean took another swig from the Whisky bottle, his right hand coming up to grab the protective amulet around his neck. It was the only one he was currently wearing and not the small gold coloured one he had worn for all of these years. Right now, the memories associated with it were too much to bear, though. He would never have thought he'd take it off willingly, hadn't done so since Sam had given it to him that Christmas day so many years ago. Before this incident it had been his most priced possession, a symbol of the bond he and Sam shared. Now it was resting in the bottom of his duffle bag, safely wrapped up - close but not too close.

No, the one he was currently wearing was the _other_ amulet. The one Sam had left with Margaret, asking her to give it to Dean. The one that was supposed to protect him from psychic manipulations. Dean knew it worked, he had discovered that first hand a few weeks ago when a demon had possessed a little girl and had tried to get into Dean's head. The amulet had warmed slightly against Dean's skin, protecting him effectively. Sam had done his homework, Dean had to give him that. Sam's image suddenly appeared in Dean's mind, the way he had looked the last time he had seen him. Lip split, purple bruise forming on his skin and guilt written all over his face. Dean closed his eyes, wishing the picture would just go away. Even after these months, remembering Sam still hurt.

"You thinking about him again?" Bobby's voice pulled Dean out of his musings and he let go of the amulet as if he had been burned.

"None of your business, old man," Dean replied feeling like a kid that had been caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

"Dean, please, don't do this. It's been eight months. I know that's not enough time for you to trust him or forgive him, but you could at least…talk to him, don't you think? You're hurting both of you, Dean and it's not healthy."

"Who made you Dr. phil now?" Dean snapped at Bobby, taking another swig from the bottle. "You know nothing about how I feel - and I don't care if he's miserable. He didn't give a damn about my feelings either, when he took my memories. Why should I talk to him ever again? No, you know what, I'll go and find myself another gig…" Dean pushed to his feet, feeling slightly dizzy.

"Dean, you need a good nights sleep before you can go back to hunting. Sleep off the painkillers and the booze. Don't be so stubborn. Go and lie down, if you leave tomorrow, it will be soon enough." Bobby said and Dean thought that maybe this time Bobby might be right. The town he wanted to check out next was quite a few hours drive away and Dean was exhausted. The stitched up cut in his left upper arm wasn't _that_ much of a problem, but a little bit of rest wouldn't do any harm. If only he'd stop dreaming of Sam.

"Yeah whatever, " Dean finally agreed, seeing the pleased grin on Bobby's face, but not caring much. Tomorrow he would be off to another hunt and maybe this vengeful spirit - or whatever it was that was going on - would take his thoughts off Sam. Dean still had hope, even though the last twenty or so creatures he had taken care of hadn't managed that feat either.

oooooOooooo

_The graveyard was cast into darkness and the only source of light was the illumination of a single flashlight. It was barely enough to see what was happening. A dark figure was muttering vicious curses under his breath as he dug into the dirt. The tombstone that marked the grave the digger was working on, read _Arthur Cunnings, beloved father and husband. 17. May 1948 - 31. October 1999_. When the figure moved to shovel dirt out of the hole reaching already to his hip, the cone of light showed his face for a moment. It was Dean. Dirt and dead leaves were already covering him. He was just reaching the lid of the coffin, when suddenly something behind him rustled. _

Before Dean could aim and shoot at anything though, he was being lifted off his feet and hurtled against a lone tree, three graves down the line. The force of it audibly took his breath away for a moment, the impact of his head against the wood obviously making him dizzy. Catching his breath and cursing violently, Dean tried to struggle free from the invisible hands that were keeping him pinned to the tree. His feet were dangling a few inches above the ground and he desperately tried to find some footing. All of a sudden, a vengeful spirit materialized in front of him, revealing itself. It let go of Dean, who fell hard onto the ground, crumbling at the foot of the tree for moment. Before Dean could react, the spirit took a step back, held out its right hand and in a wisp of smoke, a scythe appeared in it.

Dean seemed to have recovered slightly and with the spirit giving him some room, he leapt for the pump-gun he had dropped when he had hit the tree. It was too far away for Dean to get a grip on it though, before he was lifted off the ground again and casually tossed against the iron wrought fence of a nearby grave. Everything happened so fast that Dean had no chance of defending himself. He tried to evade the spirit, tried to reach the pump-gun once again, but the spirit was already close enough to grab hold of his throat. Dean's hands went to the fingers squeezing the breath out of him, as he fought for his life. The spirit studied him intently for a second, before its scythe vanished and a pleased grin appeared on its face. It took hold of Dean more firmly before neatly pushing him down on one of the four poles of the fence, staking him.

Dean tried to scream, but the iron must have pierced his lungs and he managed to get out only a sickeningly wet gurgle. Writhing helplessly, Dean took one last, painful sounding breath before the light in his eyes went out and he stilled, a look of utter disbelieve and shock on his face.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, sitting upright in his bed, breathing heavily. He was drenched with cold sweat, a pounding headache behind his temples. "God, Dean, _no…_ he whispered, rubbing his hands over his face and the hair clinging to his forehead. When he made to get out of bed, Victoria sat up beside him, as well.

"Honey, what's the matter? Did you have a nightmare? Come here, I'll make you feel better," she reached for him, attempting to pull him against her body.

"No, Victoria, not just a nightmare. Let me go!" Sam brought out, frantically trying to get her hands off of him. "I need to find Dean. I need to warn him. He's in danger. He's gonna _die_, if I don't warn him," Sam mumbled, grabbing for his sweatpants that were lying beside the bed.

"Sam, don't be ridiculous!" Victoria snapped, kneeling on the bed now, hands propped on her hips. "No one is gonna die, the least your stupid brother. Just because you had a nightmare of some sort doesn't mean anything at all is gonna happen. It's just a _nightmare_ for god's sake, and you sure had enough of those lately. Now stop acting like a stubborn child and come back to bed. You're making a fool out of yourself. Come on," she crooned, "if you ask nicely I'll even let you fuck me…"

Sam stared at her, eyes glittering with anger and disgust. "You know nothing about me or Dean. You don't know what it's like to love another person more than you love yourself. Don't you dare to speak of Dean this way _ever_ again. My brother is worth more than twice of your kind at any given day. He is in danger and I will _not_ stand by and see him get hurt. Now wipe that bitchy look off your face before I get really angry," Sam yelled, losing all semblance of control over his emotions. He didn't care the he had just destroyed any chance of ever having a life with Victoria, all he could think of was _Dean_.

"Are you nuts?" Victoria screamed. "Do you even know what you're saying? You're totally out of your mind!"

"No," Sam replied. "Quite the contrary. I'm thinking quite clearly for maybe the first time in a very long time. This life, this apartment, you… this isn't what I want or need, but that's beside the point now. I need to call Bobby and I need to go find Dean. I just hope I'm not too late already." Sam leaned down and pulled a huge duffle bag from under the bed, stuffing clothing in it in randomly. Victoria just watched him in frozen disbelieve.

When Sam turned to the door, life came into the still form on the bed. Victoria jumped off the bed grabbing Sam's arm. "Samuel Winchester, if you go through that door now, you don't need to come back. We're over and done with…"

Sam just freed himself from her, opening the bedroom door. "I don't want to come back," he said before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. When he heard the metallic 'cling' of Victoria's engagement ring hitting the floor, Sam felt like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders.

One problem less. Time to focus on saving Dean's life.

oooooOooooo

Sam was running through the graveyard, heart pounding like a jackhammer. He couldn't shake the sense of foreboding, the feeling of _too late_, no matter how hard he tried. Sweat was running down his face, burning his eyes, but he ignored it. He knew he needed to push through his fears and nervousness, into the state of mind for a fight. Dean's life depended on it. The handle of his Glock was reassuringly cold in the damp grip of his right hand as he fought against his panic. Bobby's information regarding Dean's next job had been insufficient, forcing Sam to research the missing information online. It had cost him precious time. Time Dean might not have.

In addition, it had taken Sam far longer than he had anticipated to find this crappy little graveyard in the middle of no-where. Even though he had broken every speed limit on the way, it still felt as if it wasn't enough. _Oh God, please don't let me be too late. Please, let me be on time,_ he prayed silently. Of course, with his luck, the grave was at the other fucking side of the graveyard than he had parked at. In his panic to get to Dean in time, Sam hadn't paid attention to the outline, he had just stopped as soon as he had reached the wall and scaled it by climbing on top of the car.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, he could see a dim light ahead of him. Dean! Adrenaline rushed through Sam at the knowledge of his brother being near and he put on some more speed, when he heard a terrifying crack. _Oh god, I'm too late!_ The thought came unbidden and with it a new wave of cold panic, as he burst through the hedge that ran along the row of graves that separated him from his brother.

The spirit had raised Dean above its head already and Sam jerked to a halt. It's wasn't too late to save Dean's life yet. "Leave him the fuck alone!" Sam yelled angrily, his gun pointed at the vengeful spirit. Before he could shoot it though, it turned around, facing Sam, flinging Dean away with a negligent movement. The next moment it vanished completely. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sam cursed, scanning the surroundings carefully while suppressing the urge to check on Dean. This thing would kill them both if he wasn't careful. So much for his rescue mission.

Sam knew his only chance to dodge an attack of the now invisible spirit was the rustling noise it made before appearing. The noise he's heard in his vision. Sam's urge to go check on Dean grew with every second that passed, but he knew he was the target now and he didn't dare remind the spirit that Dean was there as well. If Dean was hurt, their best chances of surviving were for Sam to take the spirit down. Turning around in a circle, the gun at the ready, Sam didn't allow himself to think about his brother further. It wouldn't do for him to get too distracted. He needed all his senses alert on anything out of the ordinary, hoping to detect the spirit before anything else could happen.

Unfortunately, Sam had no such luck.

He heard the rustling noise behind his back and spun around, weapon at the ready. He never had a chance to fire. The scythe raised high above its head, the spirit appeared out of no-where, just as Sam finished turning in its direction. He managed to jump back, but the sharp tip of the weapon grazed his stomach, sending white hot pain searing through his body. Sam tried to keep hold of his weapon, but his fingers didn't want to co-operate and it fell to the ground by his feet as he went to his knees, fingers pressing against the wound across his belly.

With hollow sounding laughter the spirit kicked the gun away, before a malicious grin appeared on the pale face. It raised the scythe above its head once more, ready to cut Sam in two, when a shot sounded through the night.

The spirit vanished instantly, taking the damnable scythe with it and Sam collapsed into a heap onto the ground, relief flooding him. Through the pain and the disorientation he felt a hand on his face, Dean's blurry face appearing in his field of vision, before his world turned dark and he lost consciousness.

oooooOooooo

Sam looked up from the magazine he had been reading when the door to his hospital room opened. To his great surprise, Dean stepped into the room, a stony expression on his face. "Dean!" Sam gasped, totally unprepared for the sight of his brother. When he had woken in the hospital about a week ago, right out of the OR, Bobby had been there. Sam really hadn't expected Dean to show up at all. He knew his brother was still very hurt and angry and saving Dean's life hadn't miraculously taken away those feelings. He had hoped to be able to speak to Dean though, at one point. It seemed his chance was now.

"You're a stupid son of a bitch, you know that?" Dean hissed, eyes cold and angry. "You were supposed to stray away from me, not come rushing head over heels into a hunt and almost get yourself killed. What do they teach at universities nowadays? How to make one stupid decision after another? But then again, the last time you fucked up you managed quite nicely on your own, didn't you?" Dean was approaching Sam's bed now and Sam was just glad he hadn't left yet.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I … I didn't mean to mess up your hunt and get hurt. I only tried to… I only tried to save you. I didn't mean to get hurt and have you take care of me." Sam had hoped to be able to talk to Dean, had hoped to get a chance to say all the things he hadn't gotten a chance to say ten moths ago. But now that Dean was actually here with him, in the same room, angry and cold, with mistrust written all over his face, Sam couldn't remember one single thing he'd wanted to say.

"I managed fine without you for the last ten months, Sam. I'm not out to kill myself, I am not taking unnecessary risks, I am not getting into bar-fights drunk off my ass. I thought that was what you wanted when you did your little psycho trick on me. So, you got it. This was a simple salt and burn and you had no business being near me." Dean snapped, coming to stand beside Sam's bed.

"No it wasn't!" Sam yelled, moving to sit upright, cursing as a sharp sting of pain rushed through him. Damn, for a second he had forgotten he had almost been gutted. Fixing his brother's eyes with his, Sam continued more softly, "I had a vision, Dean. That spirit was a mean bastard. You would have gotten killed - and I couldn't let that happen. I know you hate me right now. I know you don't trust me any more and you have every right to feel all those things, but you are still my bother and I love you. I couldn't let you die. I just couldn't sit back and let you run into certain death, can't you understand that?"

Dean sighed, but the look in his eyes didn't soften. "I don't know what to believe any more, Sam. I only know that you disregarded my wishes again. Let's say I believe you - why didn't you just send Bobby to me as a backup? Why mess up the pretty little life you've made for yourself? Why risk your own skin? Face it, that was a stupid thing to do. I don't want to see you hurt either. I may not trust you and I may not really like you much at the moment, but it's as you said. You're still my brother. I've spend my whole fucking life making sure you don't get hurt, or worse, killed. I thought with you leading your apple pie life at least _that_ wouldn't be a problem any more. You're a fucking moron, you know? I bet this little fiancé of yours isn't too thrilled that you ran away again and almost got killed on top of it," Dean's voice was dripping with sarcasm now and Sam winced. "What did you tell her? How did you explain all of this? Where is she anyway?"

Sam didn't like the malicious gleam in Dean's eyes, but he knew he deserved Dean's anger and so he forced himself to stay calm as he answered, "I did call Bobby, but he was too far away to reach you in time. Also, I wanted to see you for myself, make sure you're alright. As for Victoria… The engagement is off and I don't think she will talk to me again in this lifetime. You were right - she didn't like me running off in the middle of the night to try and save your life."

Dean sneered, looking down at Sam disdainfully. "I wouldn't worry about that too much if I were you . All you have to do is go and alter her memories. Shouldn't be too hard to do for you after all. And the chances that _she_ will ever need a restoring ritual are pretty slim. She'll never know you were anything but happy together."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the pain it caused to hear Dean say those words. 'You brought this onto yourself' he reminded himself firmly, opening his eyes again to look at Dean. He wouldn't back away from his brother no matter what Dean did or said. "I wouldn't do that, Dean," Sam replied, hating how resigned his voice sounded even to his own ears. Dean had no reason to believe him after all. Sam said it anyway. "I've never… I've never…"

"You've never what? Used your mind altering powers on anyone else? I was the only one?" Dean raised his arms in an 'I can't believe this' gesture, the grin on his face familiar - and as false as any of his fake IDs. "Wow, Sammy, I dunno if I should feel honoured or insulted. Is it because I was the easiest to manipulate? Were the others not worth the trouble?" The sarcasm Sam could hear in Dean's voice was concealing the hurt lying underneath just barely. It showed clearly just how much damage Sam had done.

Sam suddenly felt very tired. This talk with Dean was painful and draining, and not going even remotely as he had hoped it would. He could have tried to defend himself, tried to explain himself, but he didn't. Because, in all honesty, Dean had been right that day, when he had said there was no justification for what Sam had done. So Sam just asked quietly, "Why are you here, Dean?"

For the first time since Dean had stepped beside his bed, his eyes lowered from Sam's face. He looked down, shoulders slumping and his facial expression unreadable. "I'll be dammed if I know it," he murmured.

Sam was about to say something else, to ask Dean if they maybe couldn't talk for real at another time, when his brother suddenly looked, up again, jaw set. "Your amulet works, just so you know."

A small, sad smile crept onto Sam's face at Dean's words. He had hoped Dean would wear his gift, and as it seemed it had even done him some good already. "Yeah, I know it does," Sam replied softly. "I wouldn't give you something that doesn't work. I don't want anyone to hurt you like this."

"No, you prefer to do it yourself," Dean added just as softy, and the pain and hopelessness those words held broke Sam's heart.

"I'd give anything to make this undone, Dean, but I can't," Sam whispered, throat burning with unshed tears. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Dean replied tonelessly, before he turned and walked away.

oooooOooooo

'I must be out of my mind,' Dean thought when he was making his way to Sam's room again, a few days later. 'I should have left right after that hunt. Right after I knew he would survive.' But he hadn't. Bobby had told him Sam would be released the next day and something in Dean urged him to go see his brother one last time. He'd make it clear that all further involvement in his life from Sam's side was unwelcome. Yes, that's what he would do.

When Dean neared Sam's room, he realized someone was in there already, talking to Sam. The door was slightly ajar and Dean was startled to hear his own name.

"…Dean will _never_ agree to that, Sam. And you're not up to going alone…" That was Bobby's voice and Dean stepped into the room, clearly startling the two men inside.

"What will I never agree to? What are you planning?" he demanded to know, anger rising in his chest. What kinds of plans were those two making behind his back?

There was guilt written all over Sam's face and Bobby looked concerned, as they both focussed on Dean.

"I want to go back to hunting with you, Dean." Sam finally said and Dean's breath caught in his throat. Sam couldn't seriously think he would take him on a hunt, sleep with him in the same room or drive with him in the same car, after what he had done. But before Dean could reply anything, Sam spoke again, his voice desperate and pleading, "Please, Dean, think about it. I know you don't trust me any more and I know I've hurt you but, I'd like a chance to try and make things alright again. I know we can't go back to what we had but we could at least not be enemies any more. I…all I want is to prove that I'm sorry and that I won't hurt you again." His voice faltered but he didn't lower his eyes from Dean's face, he didn't back off. "I'd do _anything_ to get back your trust."

Dean was about to outright deny Sam, to tell him he was out of his mind if he thought he would be allowed to come with him, but he hesitated at the last moment. Something about the way Sam had said he would do anything to be allowed to prove himself, stroke a chord in Dean. Maybe this was his chance to get Sam out of his head once and for all. Maybe this was the way to exorcise his own personal demon that came in the form of his baby brother. Maybe Sam had just unknowingly presented him with the answer to his problems. Maybe…

He was startled out of his thoughts when Bobby spoke up, addressing him, "I just told him that's a stupid idea, Dean, I told him…"

"Deal," Dean heard himself say, enjoying the dumbfounded looks on both Bobby's and Sam's faces. "Under one condition, though. If you come with me, you have to do it on my terms. That means you do as I say, when I say it. I'm not taking any chances this time. I won't have you manipulate me again."

"Sam, I don't think…" Bobby started, but Dean interrupted him once more, searching Sam's eyes and holding his gaze.

"It's the only offer you'll get, Sam. Take it or leave it," Dean told his brother, enjoying this more than he probably should.

To his satisfaction, Sam nodded his head once, eyes never leaving Dean's face. "That's alright with me."

"Fine, then I'll pick you up tomorrow. Call me when they are ready to release you, I've found a new job and don't want to lose any more time," Dean ordered curtly and turned to go. He strode out of the room without looking back. Somehow he had the feeling that he had interesting weeks ahead of him. Yes, he'd get rid of the hold Sam still had over him, once and for all. And while doing so, he might even get a chance to pay back some of the heartache Sam had caused. Dean almost felt sorry for Sam. His brother had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

oooooOooooo

"I don't understand, Dean," Sam said when his brother opened the door to the motel room. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. There was only one room, with two beds in it. Usually that would have been nothing special, if it wasn't for the fact that for the last six weeks Sam had not been allowed to share a room with Dean. His brother had made him sleep in a separate room, while Sam had to pay for both of them. It was a signal of course, Sam had known that. It was Dean's way of saying, 'I don't trust you to be near me while I sleep.' It was also a test, Sam figured. A test to see if Sam really would do everything Dean asked of him.

Which was, truth be told, not as easy as Sam had imagined. He'd thought that being with Dean again after such a long time, being back on the road would help him ease into the situation. Turned out it didn't. Sure, hunting with Dean was still as natural as breathing, both of them slipping back into well practiced moves easily. While hunting, Dean seemed to forget he was angry at Sam, or that he didn't really trust him the rest of the time. Which surprised Sam, but he wasn't going to argue it. That was just the way things were. Hunting was different. It was like putting on a well fitting glove - smooth and easy. But as soon as the bones were salted and burned, the demon exorcised or the monster killed, Dean turned back into the cold and suspicious person he had been since he had picked Sam up from the hospital.

Well, the person he had been since he had regained his memories. Sam knew he deserved Dean's behaviour, he knew he deserved every single word and every single 'punishment' Dean chose to bestow on him. He'd earned it and he would accept it, whatever Dean decided to ask of him. Because the alternative was unthinkable. Sam knew he would never be able to live without Dean in his life, not if he wanted to have some semblance of happiness. That was why he had accepted Dean's 'offer' in the first place. But Sam had to admit he hadn't known what he was getting into. Not really anyway.

To be honest, when they had started this out, Sam hadn't expected to be made to sleep away from Dean. Do the laundry, get meals, do research, basically, do all the things Dean didn't want to and then some, yes, that was what Sam had expected. Of course those things Dean had asked of him as well. And Sam complied. He never objected, never raised his voice, he did everything Dean asked of him without so much as batting an eye. Sam knew this was what it would take as a first step to regain Dean's trust. That he now obviously would be allowed back into one room with Dean was a first success and Sam cheered silently.

"What is there not to understand, Sam? I only got us one room. Now get in before I regret my decision," Dean huffed, shoving Sam through the door roughly. Sam suppressed a sigh, his brother's harsh treatment nothing new to him by now. Dean never had a kind word for him any more these days. Not that Sam had expected he would. It still hurt.

Sam unpacked his things, setting up the laptop at the table while Dean went and took a shower. That Dean would get the first shower went without saying, so Sam busied himself with laying salt-lines and securing the room. It was a great feeling to be able to do this for their _shared_ room again and not just for the single he had been forced to sleep in lately. It gave Sam the illusion of 'normal' just for a little while. It would let him pretend things were like they had been before his manipulations had driven Dean away from him.  
And of course he also did it because Sam didn't want for Dean to snap at him more than absolutely necessary.

When the door of the bathroom opened, Sam reflexively turned to look at Dean. His brother was only wearing a towel around his waist and there were water drops still clinging to his skin. He was towelling his hair not bothering to look at Sam as he walked over to his own bed. Sam swallowed hard. He was grateful Dean hadn't paid him any attention, since he couldn't explain the blush Sam was sure was gracing his cheeks. If the heat he could feel on his face was anything to go by, he had to be red as a tomato. Sam suppressed a groan. Damn, Dean hated him, but Sam's treacherous body was reacting to him nevertheless. It was something Sam had thought he'd had outgrown. Well, not exactly outgrown but at least had better under control. Looked like he was a bit out of practice in the 'sharing a room with Dean' department. Which somehow was to be expected after almost two years apart from Dean. Apart from temptation to be exact. Having a dripping wet, mostly naked Dean only a few feet away was definitely a completely different league than talking to him twice a week. And even that had been torture in the beginning.

"What are you waiting for? Go take your shower. And make it quick, I want to go to bed," Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts.

Sam complied, hurrying to get into the bathroom. It looked like he wouldn't have to worry about hot water, because after seeing Dean like that, he needed a cold shower anyway.

Locking the door behind himself carefully, Sam undressed quickly and stepped under the cool spray, no way was he going to jerk off with Dean just a few feet away. Grabbing the shower gel, Sam washed and dried himself in record time, remembering Dean's order to make it quick. By the time he came out of the bathroom, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, nothing indicated he had ever been aroused by the presence of his brother alone. He made his way over to his bed and Dean seemed to ignore him.

When Sam slipped under the covers though, ready to go to sleep, Dean was suddenly by his side. He stared down at Sam with a hard look in his eyes and Sam felt his insides knot. Maybe sleeping in the same room with Dean wasn't as much a success as he had hoped.

"Grip the headboard with your right hand, Sam," Dean snapped, his voice cold and harsh.

Sam was momentarily startled. What the hell was going on? Then he noticed the handcuffs Dean was holding. "What? No!" Sam protested, sitting up and looking at Dean who hadn't batted an eye.

"Sam, you are going to grip the damn headboard and let me cuff you, or you can sleep in another room again. Your choice, but I am _not_ letting you near me while I sleep so you can take the amulet from me and manipulate me again, or whatever you plan on doing. So, _pick_, but do it quickly, 'cause I really do wanna go to sleep now," Dean's tone of voice made it clear that he was dead serious.

"What if I something happens? What if something gets in here and I am tied to the bed and helpless? I couldn't even get to my weapons if you do this." Sam tried to reason anyway, but Dean just smiled a cold, cruel smile.

"You are far from helpless, Sam, and we both know it. But if it makes you feel better, I'm gonna place one of the guns within rage, so you can use your psycho-mojo to get it if need be. I don't think you're gonna shoot me, are you?"

"Of course not!" Sam snapped, horrified that Dean would even think such a thing.

"Good, then get your hand on the headboard now, or do you want to get another room?" Dean's patience was clearly running thin.

Sam wordlessly placed his right hand on the metal headboard, trying not to wince when the cold steel of the handcuffs touched his skin. A moment later he had been securely attached to the bed. Sam suppressed a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

oooooOooooo

Sam sat on the bed, listening to the sounds of the running shower. Dean had been out again, hustling some pool, while Sam had been told to stay at the Motel room. It was always the same lately. Dean would leave to 'get some money' coming back smelling of alcohol, smoke and cheap perfume. Sam had never before thought himself jealous of the women Dean had sex with, knowing that they were insignificant and Dean would forget them right away. Lately however, Sam realized that he was irrationally angry about them, knowing that, no matter how short the time, they got to touch him _at all_.

Back then, before the night they had killed the yellow-eyed-demon, before everything had fallen apart, before Sam had willingly left the most important person in his life behind - back then it had been different. There had been slaps on the shoulder, brief touches to his neck, Dean holding him when a vision struck, and of course the inevitable patching up sessions after a hunt. Sam had never realized how _often_ he and Dean touched during a normal day. In hindsight, Sam realized it wasn't just a "living in each other's pockets" thing, it was much more.

During their time apart Sam had missed a lot of things, but being physically close to Dean surprisingly enough had not been one of them. That particular problem had only started since he was back to hunting with Dean again and his brother wasn't touching him any more. At all. That fact, paired with the inappropriate arousal that seemed to take hold of Sam's body whenever Dean was close and less than fully dressed, made for a very frustrated and very lonely Sam Winchester.

The shower shut off and Sam knew Dean would emerge out of the bathroom any moment now. Despite knowing by now what to expect - a half naked, still damp Dean walking around the room - Sam couldn't help the reaction of his treacherous body. In fact, it seemed to get worse and worse the more time passed without being able to reach out and feel his brother again.

Fighting a blush and keeping his eyes firmly on the book that was lying on the bed in front of him, Sam tried his best to hide his arousal from Dean, who had stepped out of the bathroom. When Dean didn't walk by his bed and dress like he usually did, though, Sam finally looked up to meet his brother's eyes. He wondered what was the matter now.

"We could do it, you know," Dean said, out of the blue, his eyes slowly travelling down Sam's body, making him blush even more. Sam blinked confusedly. Dean's behaviour didn't really make any sense at all.

"We could do _what_, Dean?" Sam frowned, trying to decipher Dean's statement. To his great surprise, Dean's hands went to the knot holding the towel around his hips, undoing it. A predatory gleam entered his brother's eyes and if Sam hadn't seen him step effortlessly over the salt line protecting the room, Sam would have thought him possessed.

"We could have sex, Sam," Dean clarified and Sam's jaw dropped. But his brother just went on. "I've seen you looking, you know? The way you stare at me, the way you blush , the way you harden in your pants whenever I come close to you. You're turned on by me, Sam. Didn't think you had it in you, little brother. _Incest_, Sammy. That'll land us in hell. But I bet you're worth it."

Torn between fascination and horror, Sam watched as Dean pulled away the damp towel covering his groin, throwing it over onto the other bed. He stepped closer and Sam could smell the soap Dean had used and underneath the scent that Sam identified as just _Dean._

Feeling light-headed for a second, Sam closed his eyes briefly, before resting his gaze firmly on his brother's face rather than the erection that was right in front of him.

"Are you drunk? Did you take any drugs? Do you know what you're saying, Dean?" Sam asked, convinced that his brother was under some sort of influence or just completely out of his mind.

"I had a couple of beers, but that's it. Didn't want to risk not getting it up for you , little brother," Dean drawled, moving closer still.

Sam's breath caught in his throat, Dean was too close, too overwhelming, too irritating. Lowering his gaze down onto the book once more, Sam backed up on the bed, away from Dean and his disturbing presence.

"You planned this?" He then mumbled, realisation dawning. Maybe this was just another way of punishment for Dean, another way to humiliate and hurt him. "You planned on fucking me tonight no matter what my answer would be? Is this what it's all about? Is this some sort of game to you? To humiliate me? To get back at me for hurting you?" Sam's voice rose, and he knew there was panic audible in his words. The thought of Dean making this part of the deal, part of the requirements he had to fulfill to be allowed to stay with Dean made his stomach turn.

Oh yes, he longed to touch Dean, he longed for it so badly. His fingers were itching to glide over Dean's chest, his arms, the curve of his neck. He wanted to touch and taste and explore and yet the thought of being with Dean like this scared the hell out of him. Especially if Dean would make this a decision about staying or leaving.

When no immediate answer came, Sam carefully looked up to Dean again. His brother had a strange look on his face, something Sam couldn't quite decipher. Was he angry that Sam had asked that question? Was he insulted or amused? Sam couldn't tell.

"Answer me, Dean," Sam demanded, fear and anger coiling in his stomach making him want to flee the room. "Is sex part of the requirements for being allowed to stay with you? Do I have to leave if I say no to this?"

Dean seemed to finally snap out of it and his eyes fixed on Sam's face. "Of course not, Sam. No, it's _not_ part of the deal. If you don't wanna do this, I'm just gonna cuff you to the bed again and we go to sleep," his eyes were guarded and his tone had lost a bit of his seductiveness, but Sam wasn't fooled. Dean _wanted_ this to happen. Of that Sam was sure.

"Oh, okay… I … ah," Sam stammered, not sure what he actually wanted to say. But Dean interrupted him by placing a knee on the bed and slowly crawling towards him. His naked body was a sight to behold, muscles, toned from hunting, rippling under smooth skin.

Sam could feel Dean's breath ghosting over his face when his brother leaned over and whispered huskily, "I don't think you're gonna say no, Sam. I don't think you _want_ to say no. In fact, I think this is exactly what you want, what you've been longing for since we started hunting together again. You want to touch me, want to know what it's like to be with me…." He trailed off and Sam had to suppress a moan at his brother's words.

Dean was right. He _wanted_ this. He wanted to know what Dean's skin would taste like, what his hands would feel like on his skin. He knew he shouldn't want his own brother in that way, but he really was beyond caring. It wasn't just that he longed for human touch by now - which he did - it was_Dean's_ skin he wanted to explore.

Sam knew his desire must have shown on his face, his willingness to go ahead, because in the next moment Dean was grinning one of his smug grins, saying, "Yeah, I thought so."

Unsure of how to proceed, Sam looked at Dean expectantly. His brother seemed pleased by his reactions and Sam could feel him tugging at his T-shirt a moment later.

"Let's get down to business," Dean smirked, grabbing the book that was still on the bed with them and dropping it to the floor, before reaching for Sam's pants. Within seconds Sam found himself on his back, naked, the aroused, equally naked body of his brother on top of him.

Heat rushed through Sam and he moaned, shifting his hips to rub his erection against Dean's belly, bringing their bodies into even closer contact. This was what he had dreamt of for so long, this was what he wanted. Finally, finally he was going to experience first hand what it was like to be desired by Dean Winchester.

Sam knew this wouldn't miraculously solve all his problems, it wouldn't change the fact that he still had a long way ahead of him to gain back Dean's trust, but it was at least _something._ Something to take and cherish, something to hold onto, even if it was frail and twisted and Sam knew whatever it was they were doing, it had the potential to hurt him badly. To destroy him even. But he was willing to take that risk. He _needed_ to take that risk, for it was all he had. His chance to be close to Dean. And he would take this chance no matter the consequences.

Dean's face was hovering right in front of him and Sam raised his head, intending to kiss him. He wanted to get a first taste of his brother's mouth, wanted those lips on his, but Dean turned away, biting the tender skin of Sam's collarbone roughly.

"I'm not your girlfriend, Sam," he drawled, voice deep and husky, but allowing no objection. "We don't need to kiss to have sex," Dean added and Sam felt his words like a blow to his stomach. Of course, no kissing; that was for actual girlfriends, not brothers that happened to be convenient and available. For a second Sam thought he couldn't do this after all, couldn't give himself over to Dean and his stroking, searching hands, knowing Dean didn't feel the same emotional connection he felt. That for Dean this was sex, it was physical relieve, it was overstepping the last line, breaking the last taboo, it was just another thrill for someone used to the horror they faced every day.

But then Dean spoke again and Sam's concerns drowned in the way Dean's hot breath ghosted over his skin and the words that promised pleasure like he'd never felt before. "I'm gonna make you come so hard, Sammy," the voice whispered beside his ear, "I'm gone take you so high you'll never want to come down again. I'm gonna suck you dry and spread you open, I'm gonna bury myself in your tight little ass and fuck you so hard you'll feel it for days, I'm gonna make you see stars…"

Sam whimpered, overwhelmed by Dean's scent and his wandering hands on his skin, the way his brother seemed to hit every hot spot dead on and even finding some Sam hadn't known he had, himself. When Dean finally slid down Sam's body and took his cock down his throat in one swift motion, Sam was on the edge already. It didn't take more than a few sucks, a little humming and licking from his bother's talented mouth and Sam came, arching into the wet, moist heat that was still surrounding his cock.

Dean looked smug when he finally released Sam's softening flesh from his mouth, before he rolled to lie beside Sam. He propped his head up on one hand, watching Sam closely. "You ever been fucked before by a man, Sam?" he finally asked, hand wandering to play with the skin behind Sam's balls.

Sam swallowed. Time to confess. "I…um, I've had a boyfriend, back then. The first time I went to college, I mean. I…It didn't last. He didn't want anyone to know and I didn't want to live like that. I didn't want to hide," Sam said silently. Simon had been a great guy, but he wasn't ready for anyone to know he was gay and Sam was tired of lying. He was tired of hiding away a part of himself, tired of pretending and sneaking around and not being able to let anyone know he was in love.

Dean grinned. "So you're playing for both sides, huh?" he said, rubbing his fingers lightly over Sam's entrance. "That's good. So you know what's coming. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind virgins, but it's so much easier this way…"

At his words, Sam swallowed again heavily. It had literally been years since he had bottomed. Knowing what was coming wasn't going to help much. If Dean decided to rush prep-work this was going to get unpleasant really fast.

Some of his concerns must have shown on his face because Dean grinned once again before leaning over to whisper into Sam's ear. "Don't worry, Sam. Gonna open you up and bury myself so deep in you. I'm not that much of a bastard to take you when you're not ready. In fact, I think I'm gonna make you beg for me to take you. I'm gonna make you mad with desire and when I'm done with you, you're gonna beg for my cock." He moved down to lick one of Sam's nipples before biting it carefully and Sam had to suppress a groan. Who would have thought that his body was capable of feeling so much pleasure, so soon after his first orgasm? Dean talking dirty to him was an incredible turn on as well. If Dean kept this up, Sam suspected he'd be hard again in no time at all.

Of course, Dean noticed his reaction as well. "You like that, huh? Admit it, Sammy. It's turning you on to hear what I'm gonna do to you. How good I'm gonna make you feel, how deep I'm gonna bury myself in you. Do you want to know what else I'm gonna do to you? How I'm gonna fuck you open with my fingers while I swallow you down, making you hard again?"

This time, Sam did groan. His hands fisted in Dean's hair as his brother kept liking and sucking his way down Sam's chest.

"You ready for the next step?" Dean asked in a husky voice, looking up from where he had been nuzzling Sam's crotch.

"Please," Sam replied, not caring how he sounded. This was what he'd waited for, what he'd fantasized about. That was Dean's mouth and Dean's hands on his skin and it felt better than he could have imagined. It was worth the consequences, worth the humiliation and emotional pain Sam was sure would follow. At this time and this place, he didn't care about the consequences, all he wanted to do was _feel_.

The grin on his brother's face was arrogant as he leaned over to grab the bag that was lying on the floor between the two beds. He searched around in it for a moment before fishing out a tube of lube and a condom. "Told you, you'd be begging. And I didn't even start yet," he drawled, dropping the items on the bed.

Sam heard the cap of the lube being opened and a moment later a slick finger was pressing against his hole. Sam gasped. It'd been a long time.

"Relax, Sammy, I'm not gonna hurt you," Dean promised as the pressure grew and the tip of Dean's finger slipped into him.

Taking a deep breath, Sam tired to do as he had been told and relax as much as possible. He knew after such a long time, it would take some getting used to again. Sam could only hope Dean would keep his word and would not rush things.

When Sam felt Dean's mouth close over his oversensitive cock, he knew Dean intended to at lest keep _that_ promise and suck him while preparing him. Sam wasn't so sure he was glad about that. Dean's tongue seemed to be too rough on his spent cock, the tight heat so uncomfortable it was almost painful.

"Dean, Dean stop, that's too soon," Sam breathed, carefully lifting his brother's head from his lap.

"Tender?" Dean smirked, a knowing smile gracing his swollen, glistening lips.

"Yeah, could you …you know…not do that? Everything else is fine, but I don't think I can stand being touched there right now." Sam asked Dean in a low voice.

"Sure, Sam, I'm just gonna find something else to…suck on," Dean murmured, and a moment later Sam felt Dean's tongue lapping at his balls.

Sam sighed, hands fisting in the sheets beneath him as his world narrowed to the spot between his legs where Dean was sucking and licking him and where his finger was now exploring his ass. Soon, a second finger joined the first one and once again Sam did his best to relax into the feeling of being entered and stretched.

Dean hit his prostate dead on for several times, sending liquid fire up Sam's spine and Sam couldn't help but gasp, "more."

"You'll get more, Sam. Tell me what you want. Tell me and you'll get it. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Sammy," Dean demanded, voice low and husky.

"Take me, Dean," Sam replied, aroused by Dean's demand. "I want you to …" _make love to me_ Sam thought, but caught himself in time. "…fuck me. I want that cock of yours up my ass."

Sam knew he was giving in to Dean's wishes, was yielding to him in a way that was most probably unwise. Sam also knew it would do him more harm than good in the end, it would even hurt more and add to his humiliation when reality caught up with him and in the light of day it would only have been sex. For Dean, there were no feelings involved, but a tiny part of Sam stupidly refused to acknowledge that. That part of him that kept holing on, hoping against hope that one day, somehow, Dean would feel more for him than just… lust and desire.

Fingers being pulled from his ass brought Sam back to the here and now and he watched as Dean got up slightly, wiping his hands on the sheets and reaching for the condom.

"Told you, you'd be begging for my cock," he commented arrogantly, before he slapped Sam's thigh slightly.

"Get on your hands and knees, Sammy, and I'll see what I can do about the fucking part," Dean said and Sam's stomach clenched. Hands and knees…of course. Turned away from Dean, unable to see his face. Sam had never really liked that position all that much, feeling strangely disconnected from his partner. But he wouldn't object, he told himself firmly.

So Sam scrambled to his hands and knees in front of Dean, opening his legs a bit further so Dean could comfortably slip between them. A moment later, Sam felt the slick fingers return to his entrance, pushing in.

A third finger joined the two already moving inside of him and the slight burn of being stretched intensified. Sam took a deep breath and told himself that this was what he'd wanted all along. This was Dean, the one person he'd desired for such a long time now.

When the fingers left his ass this time, he didn't have time to feel bereft, instead an instant later something larger was pushed into him, making him gasp. It didn't exactly _hurt_ but it was a long way from comfortable. It burned and stung slightly and Sam had to consciously relax again, resisting the urge to pull away from the sensation of being stretched uncomfortably.

Slowly, Dean pushed all the way into Sam's body, stopping every once in a while to give Sam time to adjust to the intrusion. By the time Dean was sheathed in Sam completely, both of them were panting heavily and drenched in sweat. Sam still wasn't hard again completely, but the feeling of his brother's cock inside of him sent jolts of pleasure up his spine. The uncomfortable feeling had vanished, leaving only a sense of fullness behind.

Then Dean began to move and Sam's universe once more narrowed down to the point where their bodies were joined. Dean pulled back out of him almost completely, only to plunge in deep, a moment later. Pleasure built as Dean's movements got more jerky and forceful, driving deeper into Sam's body than he had ever before. It wasn't always comfortable, but Sam just dropped his head onto the bed in front of him, rising his ass even higher, letting Dean take what he wanted.

Suddenly Dean reached around, his hand gripping Sam's newly awakened cock in a firm hold, pumping him in time with his thrusts. Sam's world greyed out around the edges and he could feel his own orgasm near. Dean was still driving into him relentlessly, whispering words like, 'fucking hot', 'so tight' or 'gonna make you come' into Sam's ear.

"Come for me, Sam," Dean suddenly ordered, before biting down hard on Sam's neck - and Sam did just that. The mixture of pleasure/pain paired with Dean's husky command and the fingers tugging on his cock sent him right over the edge.

Dean came a second later, driving into Sam's willing body two more times before stiffening and collapsing on top of Sam.

Sam felt strangely disappointed that he couldn't feel Dean's come inside of him, even though he had known Dean was using a condom. Somehow the lack of 'evidence' made the whole ordeal more…unreal. It also felt more…impersonal, even though Sam knew this was a silly thought and he should be grateful Dean had used protection. There was no way of knowing who Dean had had sex with during the last few weeks alone. He could have caught god knew what.

With a grunt Dean rolled off Sam's body, taking away the warmth and reassuring weight Sam had enjoyed more than he would admit. Turning his head slightly, Sam watched as Dean disposed of the condom and made his way over to the bathroom to clean up. When he came back out again, he grinned at Sam, looking smug and well and thoroughly fucked.

"That was fun, we should do it again, soon," he grinned before he reached for his boxers and pulled them on.

"Yeah, sure, why not," Sam replied, turning away from Dean and swallowing around the lump that was suddenly closing up his throat. 'You knew it would be like this. You knew it didn't mean anything to him, when you agreed to this. You have no reason to feel hurt' Sam told himself firmly, but his eyes burned and his chest ached.

The handcuffs landed on the bed beside his feet with a dull thud and Dean's voice interrupted Sam's thoughts.

"I'll give you some time to clean up and get ready for bed, alright? But we should go to sleep soon, so don't take too long. I think we both need our rest," Dean said casually.

Pressing his face deeper into the pillow beneath him, Sam tried to regain a grip on his feelings. He didn't trust his voice just yet.

Thankfully Dean didn't seem to expect a reply as he roamed around the room, leaving Sam to gather himself in peace.

Sam knew his life had just gotten so much more complicated - and it was his own damn fault.


End file.
